Déjà Vu Forever
by angelinhell
Summary: Rated for language. What would happen if Erik got the chance to attempt a relationship with Christine again...and again...and again? Will he ever get it right? Or will the endless failure drive him to the edge? RR!
1. The Bargain

Déjà Vu Forever

by

angelinhell

I don't own any of what I am about to write, including the characters (POTO) and the concept (Groundhog Day). However, the plot is mine and mine alone. Now that that's done with, let's go.

Chapter One: The Bargain

The first day without her.

He reminded himself that death was on its way and that he did not have long to wait. But it did not make the lingering, torturous hours any shorter. Life...how could there be life anymore, without light? How could he continue to live in the night now that he had known the day?

Of course, there was always—

"You idiot."

He started and looked around desperately for the source of the voice. "Who...what are you?" he asked.

"You stupid, stupid man."

"I would be grateful," Erik said through clenched teeth, "if you would stop calling me an idiot and explain your existence."

"Grateful! Ha! I'll bet that's a word you've never used before in your life!"

Erik simply stared straight ahead, a glare piercing the air in front of him.

"But I didn't come all the way here to insult you."

"I should hope not," Erik muttered.

The voice laughed. "I came because I have a proposition for you."

Erik waited.

"How would you like the chance to go back and do it all over again?"

Erik looked up, hardly daring to hope. "Do what all over again?" he asked.

"To have the chance to win Christine, to have the chance to try again?"

Erik's heart gave a wild leap. "If you are what and who I think you are," he said coolly, "I think you know how I would like it."

"You don't believe me."

"I'm not inclined to trust disembodied voices."

Suddenly a short, rather mousy man appeared in front of Erik and extended a hand. "The Archangel Gabriel at your service," he said pleasantly.

Erik took the hand somewhat gingerly and looked incredulously at the archangel.

"What," Gabriel said, a smiling rising to his lips, "don't tell me you expected white robes, harps, blond hair, blue eyes, and a ten-foot wingspan?"

"No. But I must admit I expected someone more..."

"Majestic? Attractive? Angelic?"

Erik cracked a smile. "Someone taller, if you must know."

Gabriel laughed. "My greatest failing as a human. Well, to business, shall we?"

Erik nodded. "But before we begin...why are you doing this?"

Gabriel sighed. "There are some of us back There who have an...interest in your life. We know all the things that you were meant to learn this time around, and there are a few which...well, let's just say we haven't gotten the message through very well."

"Not exactly the most informative of people, are you?" Erik said sardonically. "What does this deal of your entail?"

"We put you into a temporal loop that causes you to live over your...experience...until you get it right."

"Until she falls in love with me, you mean."

"Until you get it right," Gabriel repeated, smiling.

"What's the downside?" Erik asked pensively.

"You won't be able to leave the loop until you do get it right."

"Ah." Erik sat down. "That's quite a downside."

"The question is," the angel commented, "as the question always is, is it worth it to you?"

The man closed his eyes slowly and pictured her face again, as it had been when she had left him. "Yes," he whispered. "Oh, God, yes."

"Then let it be so."

FLASH.

And that's the end of the chapter. How's it going so far? Good idea, d'ya think? Ah, who cares. Next chapter soon. Siobhan out.


	2. Angel of Music

I hadn't realized there was such a market for this. I'm THRILLED that you think it's a good idea and that there are people I am reaching. Yay for my cerebral phic. Anyway, thank you all for taking the time to review, and for those of you who are reading this for the first time, if you leave a review I will love you forever (for those of you who already did review, that I love you forever goes without saying :D). THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU. Once again, I don't own POTO or Groundhog Day. Onward we go.

* * *

Chapter Two: Angel of Music 

He woke up that morning with the echoing notes of her voice still ringing in his ears.

_I remember this_, he thought. _The day after I first saw her_.

"Yes," came Gabriel's voice. "This is where—or rather, when—it started, wouldn't you agree?"

"So now you can hear my thoughts," Erik replied irritably. "That's hardly a comfort."

"Keeping track of you, that's all," Gabriel said pleasantly. "So what are you going to do?"

"What I did the first time," Erik said softly.

He had the feeling that, wherever he was, Gabriel was smiling knowingly.

* * *

Christine stared into the mirror at the end of her dressing room tiredly. She was always more out of breath than the other girls because when she danced she mouthed the words of the opera. It was a useless occupation but she loved it—it was the closest she had ever come to singing onstage. 

She sang in her room but nowhere else. It was too embarrassing. Of course she couldn't sing—why else would she be a dancer? But it was her only longing, the only thing she had ever wanted to do, and her dreams were all she had. At least she had dreams. Some of the others were content to be dancers on that dangerously slanted stage for the rest of their lives.

She had just removed her outer dress and begun to change back into her clothes when the voice came.

"Come shining forth, my dearest,  
With looks of warm delight;  
Shed joy as you appear,  
Like morning beams of light.  
Mild shines your azure eye;  
Your absence chilling night, love,  
In which I droop and die.  
O! Let me hear that tongue, love,  
Whose music thrills my heart.  
Like notes by angels sung, love,  
When souls in bliss depart;  
And to your casement sing,  
Illume my ravished sight,  
Like day the world surprising  
With morning's beam of light."

(angelinhell: Courtesy of Don Giovanni (in other words I didn't write this either). Carry on!)

She stood up and looked around. "Who's there?" she said, a note of fear in her voice.

"Do not fear, Christine," the voice said. It was sweet but obviously masculine, a strong, melodic, intoxicating voice. "Do you not know me?"

"Angel," she breathed.

"Yes, Christine," the voice replied serenely. "That is who I am."

Christine sat down slowly. "I had lost hope," she whispered.

Behind the mirror Erik slid down the wall, tears encroaching on his eyes, desperately trying not to let it show in his voice. He had missed her so much...though she had been gone less than four hours in the true time, he had missed her so much in those four hours that it might as well have been an eternity. And to hear that sweet, beloved voice again...it was a kind of despairing ecstasy he was barely capable of dealing with.

"Sing with me," he said.

Christine rose. 'What would you like to sing?"

Erik smiled to himself. "Everything," he whispered, and began.

* * *

And here the second chapter is. Tada! Hope you like it! More soon! Also, the "dangerously slanted stage" is a reference to the Garnier. The stage is slanted to a five degree angle as opposed to the normal two or three degrees, which makes it somewhat harder to dance on. Siobhan out. 


	3. Christine's First Love

Okay. Third chapter. I hope this achieves as good a reception as the other two seem to have done. With that said, I don't own POTO or Groundhog Day. (Something tells me I'm going to get really tired of saying that.) Here we go.

* * *

Chapter Three: Christine's First Love 

It had been two months since the coming of the Voice. Two glorious months where music was God and nothing else was ever spoken of...two brief months in heaven.

And now, with her childhood friend in the audience, returned into her life, Christine felt her happiness complete.

She practically skipped into her room, tossing her hair gaily and going directly to the mirror. "Angel?" she called. "I am here."

"I know."

"What shall we sing today?" she asked brightly.

"For today I think that might be your decision," the Voice answered benevolently. "But tell me, what has happened to make my beautiful Christine flower the way she has?"

Christine smiled. "Have not told you of Raoul? He was such a sweet little boy when I knew him, loving and caring and so funny...oh, how I loved him..."

And she went on, telling the Voice of how she had met Raoul and when and where, and what he was like and how much she loved him.

The Voice said nothing.

She continued, telling of the years they had grown up together, of her father and how he had loved them both.

The Voice said nothing.

When finally she ran out of breath and words, she thought this odd. "Angel?" she called. "Angel, are you still there?"

Silence.

Though the presence of the Voice had caused her fear at first, now its absence caused a fear far worse. She pressed herself against the walls and called out several times.

No sound.

"Angel? Oh, what have I done to displease you, that you have forsaken me? Oh, Angel, do not leave me, I beg you! Do not leave me!"

No answer, no sign that the Voice had remained.

She flung herself against the mirror and wept violently, calling out to the Voice, but it did not reply. "Oh, what have I done? If it is anything I have done or said, tell me and I will never speak of it again! Oh, how may I right the wrong I have done my angel?"

She buried her face in her hands in despair. "I cannot bear the silence...I cannot bear the silence." And she sank to the floor, weeping and lamenting into her hands.

Finally she leaned against the wall, her tears sliding down between the mirror and her face. "Angel...if you left me I do not think that I could bear it...please come back."

Silence.

* * *

Erik stayed behind the wall until her cries became soft weeping. He stayed behind the wall until the weeping became a silent presence. He stayed until she retreated, beaten, fromhis silence. 

He had not thought that hearing once again the name of the man he hated in relation to his beloved Christine would cause such pain—so much pain that he was struck dumb, could not speak (a rare occurrence at the worst of times). He had not thought there was enough feeling left in him to hurt that much.

But, apparently, he had been wrong.

Staying in itself was torture. He longed to speak, to reassure her, but the hatred rose inside him like a huge and ugly snake preparing to strike...and so he stayed silent for fear of hurting her. Though her tears were agony to him, there was a small but powerful part of him that kept him from answering—a part of him that gloried in the pain she felt at his absence.

A part of him that said, "See how she loves you. See what power you have over her, what she feels because of you."

But the absolute power...no, that would never be his. He hated its name and he would never resort to it. Not to her...not for all the world.

So when she finally ceased her weeping and withdrew, he was there, crying his own silent, unshedtears without the comfort of release. And it was then that he finally retreated himself, back down into his prison.

Out of sight, out of mind.

Gabriel was waiting for him. "Not exactly the perfect approach, is it, doing things exactly the same way?" the angel asked.

"If you have nothing intelligent to say, then be silent."

"My, aren't we pleasant today," Gabriel commented.

Erik rounded on him. "Have you any idea," Erik hissed, "can you even conceive of what it is to be who—what I am? You play with lives as easily as I play with notes but I at least know the consequences of my actions. Do you understand at all what you have done?"

"Yes," Gabriel replied softly. "I can never know exactly because I am not you—no one ever can be. But I have an idea. There is such a thing as empathy in this world, Erik. Angels are not the only ones who bear it, but bear it we do."

"Then why?" Erik sighed. "How could you...knowing what you know of me, of her, of...of him...why?"

"Because no matter how you fight it," Gabriel said, "you still must learn...you still must grow."

"I know," Erik said, sinking into a chair and putting his face in his hands. "But must it be so hard?"

Gabriel said nothing, but extended a hand gently and rested it on Erik's shoulder as the man finally shed the tears he had held inside.

* * *

"...and then it...the Voice was gone! No matter how I called to it, how I pleaded with it, it would not respond. So tell me," Christine wept, "what have I done?" 

Amelie Valerius was anything but stupid, and her memory was long and good. She was also analytical but superstitious, and believed in Christine's Voice as fervently as she believed in God. Regardless of its actions or its manner, the Voice could never be anything but right.

"Why, my dear," she said, putting her arm around the girl she had treated as a daughter for most of her life, "of course the Voice is jealous!"

"Jealous?" Christine said, raising her head. "Of me?"

"Yes, of you!" Amelie said.

"But why?"

The matron laughed. "Because you are its pupil, because it has chosen you to become an angel and you have rejected that promise of heaven for an earthly love."

"But Mamma Valerius," Christine murmured, "I do not love—"

"Oh, come now, I'm not blind nor stupid," Amelie said softly, stroking her charge's hair gently. "I saw the way you acted around Monsieur de Chagny, and I see how you are when you talk about him now. Don't tell me what I see in your face."

Christine looked solemn, wiped her tears, and sighed. "It is no use," she said, laughing mirthlessly. "To heaven I have pledged my life, and to heaven I will vow again, for no doubt he...no matter. It is enough to say that I am what I am, and to the Voice is my duty and to my angel is my love. I will hold fast; I will stay strong...and I will not think on him any longer."

"That oath is hard kept, Christine," Amelie told her. "Take care you are not forsworn, or God will punish you."

"I only hope it is enough," Christine replied, and fled.

* * *

And here we have the chapter numbered five...(three, sir)...three...yeah, I know my veiled references aren't funny. :D Humor me, will you? 

Comments? Questions? Concerns? Reviews? Siobhan out.


	4. Opening Night

And here comes chapter four. POTO and GD not owned by me. Let's go.

Chapter Four: Opening Night

"What do you mean, she's not here?"

Yes, she had been ready for this since the day she had accepted the Voice's tutelage. Yes, she knew the part perfectly. Yes, she knew how to do what was expected of her. But had she ever expected it to come?

Even with the Voice's awesome powers, she had never thought it possible that Carlotta would ever not be there to do as she had always done. And so, though Christine could hear Meg's voice through her haze of thought, she was neither really listening to nor comprehending her friend's words.

"Carlotta! She hasn't arrived and the others are all frantic. You do know the part, don't you?"

Christine nodded reluctantly. Meg smiled and grabbed her friend's hand. "Then come! We must tell them—they will be so relieved!"

She barely remembered the journey to the office and from thence to the stage. There was a sort of glow halfway between joy and terror that suffused her vision and it was only when the curtain rose that she returned to herself. With minimal presence of mind she opened her mouth.

And she was gone, falling into the light, the music taking her higher and deeper than she had ever been before, her voice reaching into the very center of her soul and dragging every emotion into the light.

Her eyes met Raoul's where he sat in the audience, then lifted to the ceiling. There, at the edge of one of the lights, a figure stood, watching. Her soul gave a wild leap. She let loose a pure, beautiful note to end the aria and managed to stay standing until the curtain fell.

Raoul must have knocked down at least twelve people in his mad dash to get to Christine, but honestly he couldn't have cared less. In all reality he probably didn't even notice them—his entire attention was fixed on his objective.

He made it into the room just as the girl's eyelids fluttered gently. The other man who was there—a doctor, by his appearance—nodded to Raoul and departed. Raoul sat down beside her.

Christine looked at him as if without recognition, but he saw the brief tremor of her gaze. She knew.

"Do you not remember me, Mademoiselle?" Raoul asked gently. "Do you know me?"

Christine shook her head slowly, reluctantly.

"But you must remember me," he told her desperately, taking her hand. "Remember how we met? I ran into the sea—"

Christine gave him a glance that silenced him. "I beg you, sir," she said softly, "I ask that you go. Perhaps later we may speak together, but tonight..."

Though reluctant to leave her, Raoul nodded and went to the door. Although he turned back to speak, she pressed a finger to her lips and, with a small sigh, he was gone.

Christine turned back to the mirror. "I am sorry, Angel," she said softly.

"Do not apologize for what you cannot control, my darling. Shall we begin?"

Christine nodded and song followed.

"Then with your hand in mine, dear,  
You'll whisper gently yes!  
The castle's lord by yours dear,  
Come, and lover bless!"

She recognized the words and knew them well...but they had never sung this before, had they? But in any case, she continued what her teacher had started.

"I would, and yet I would not  
My breast with terror heaves:  
It would be the happiest lot,  
Unless this lord deceives."

"Come, then, with me, my beauty!"

"Masetto claims my duty."

"I wish to change your state, love."

"I yield myself to fate, love."

Suddenly the Voice was just beside her ear, and strangely hoarse. "I take thee at thy word, love," it said softly. "So come! Come with me!"

"Come, then!" was sung. "Then with your hand in mine, dear,  
You'll whisper gently yes!"

Christine felt the words ring true even as she sang them:

"I would, and yet I would not;  
My breast with terror heaves."

And there before her the mirror turned and spun and she walked forward into the flashing light and darkness with the words still ringing in her ears:

"Then come, and share with me

The pleasure of innocence and love."

Into the darkness she walked, and in darkness she fell.

When her eyes finally opened, they opened on the strangest sight she had ever seen in her short life. She was in a beautiful room furnished in deep, rich color, reds and blues and purples mostly. And across the room, his back to her, stood a man.

"Angel?" she asked gently. "Is this heaven?"

The man laughed harshly. "No, Christine," he said softly, turning around. "If anything, I would call this hell."

Christine covered her small gasp with a hand. The man was tall and wiry, but that was not what one noticed at first. He wore a black mask that covered three-quarters of his face and was completely out of touch with his lanky physical grace and the silken texture of his voice.

"Who are you?" she asked, rising and moving away from him.

"What, you do not know me?" the man replied mockingly. "Not even though you heard me less than half an hour previously?"

She looked closer, overcoming her fear to travel a few steps in his direction. "Angel?"

"I am no angel, my love. You are the angel here. No, I am neither angel nor demon nor ghost nor man...I am Erik."

She came closer, ever closer, simply wonder and curiosity in her eyes.

Perhaps it was because he had seen the knowing Christine, known her and loved her, that he forgot this girl before him did not know, had never seen...or perhaps he simply was not paying the attention the situation deserved. But he allowed her to get so close that, even with his reflexes, he could not have stopped her snatching away the mask.

Her face when she saw him was worse than he had remembered it. There was not only disgust and astonishment, but a level of fear she had never worn before. He walked towards her slowly. "Christine, I..." he tried to explain.

"No," she breathed, dropping the mask and sinking against a wall to sit in a small huddle on the floor. "Oh, God, don't come any closer...oh, God..."

She continued to weep softly. He looked at her, stunned into silence. He tried to speak but there was nothing to say—and she probably wouldn't have heard him anyway.

"Oh, God, let me forget," she wept. "Please, only let me forget this."

"Done," the voice of Gabriel said gently, and the world spun into darkness. Erik looked up into the raging face of an archangel.

"You idiot," Gabriel hissed angrily. "You are as stupid, ignorant, insensitive, and oblivious a moron as I have ever seen in all my existence! You didn't think, did you? _She has forgotten you entirely_! She remembers nothing of you and she knows nothing of your soul! And you show yourself within the first five minutes? You irresponsible, selfish little bastard!"

At first Erik looked as though he were going to retaliate with violence, but then he looked away, almost in tears. "You're right, Gabriel," he said. "I had no right to do that. God, I'm such a fool!"

He appeared about ready to hit himself when Gabriel softened. "No lasting harm has been done, Erik," the archangel told him. "She will not remember it. All will be started anew when you wake up this morning."

"May I ask a question?"

"Of course, though as always I offer no guarantee that I can answer it."

"Is there a God?"

Gabriel started. "Why on earth would you...never mind, I could answer my own question. Yes, Erik, there is a God, but that God is less able to intervene than many think. There is a kind of fate in this world, but it is only what might be—what should be. God cannot change that—only situations or people can be helped." Gabriel paused and looked away from Erik. "Like you."

Erik sighed. "Then what is my fate?"

"That, my friend, I could not answer even if I wanted to. Not only do I not know what is to be, I could not tell you if I did. What is meant to be will be—only then will life continue as it was."

Erik ran a hand through his hair and nodded. "Then let us continue," he said. "I do not want this to take longer than it must."

Gabriel nodded and raised his hands. "Let it be so."

All right, ending blurb. I'm really starting to hate doing these. Basically, the usual questions—Comments? Questions? Reviews? Anything? I'll be here...mostly. Next chapter soon I hope. Siobhan out.


	5. An Easy Escape

Sorry I haven't updated in forever. Sadly, I've been away for most of the summer, and I didn't have Internet access, so it was physically impossible for me to update. I apologize for the suspense. It was cruel and unusual and I should be shot. Now, with that out of the way, on with the story:)

Chapter Five: An Easy Escape

There had been five tries since then. The first three had been variations on the original occurrences—as usual, Christine had left him for Raoul. The first he had followed them; the second and third he hadn't bothered.

The fourth had been a complete disaster. Consumed by anger carried over from previous situations, he had executed his original threat and blown the building up. There had been a part of him that hoped the Opera itself was the thing that anchored the past, but unfortunately it hadn't worked, and he woke up the next morning, not only back at the beginning, but with a severe headache as well.

The fifth...he hadn't even spoken to her, and that had been awful. The moment she met Raoul the vision had ended—it seemed he would have to do _something_, find some way to get her to love him.

The prospect was not encouraging.

But now, there was something that was preying on his mind, and he had to talk to Gabriel. Unfortunately, the angel was not responding to any of Erik's casual inquires as to his whereabouts. It seemed there was only one way to get his attention, and in a way there was something appealing about it. After all, it wasn't as if he was going to get much done this time around, anyway.

Erik permitted himself a little smile as he raised his arms. The wind on the roof whipped around him as he leaned back and allowed gravity to do its work.

After the sickening crunch that heralded his landing, he retained enough consciousness to whisper a name to the constable who ran over. Then that familiar blackness settled in and everything was over.

The man led the woman towards the crumpled body on the sidewalk gently. "I'm sorry to have to do this, Mademoiselle," he said quietly, "but he said your name just before he died, and no one else can identify him."

She nodded, steeling herself for the unveiling of a close friend and trying not to cry. But when they finally reached the body, it seemed there was nothing to be afraid of. She took one look at the broken face against the pavement and shook her head.

"No, Monsieur," Christine Daaé said as she studied the twisted limbs of the man who had once been the opera ghost. "I have never seen him before in my life."

"Nice try," Gabriel said from where he stood, looking at the prostrate but unharmed man in front of him.

"Where have you been?" Erik said, picking himself up with a small measure of disdain. 'I've been trying to reach you for the past twelve hours."

Gabriel shrugged. "I have other things to do, you know. What is it that you wanted to talk to me about?"

"We have a problem."

Gabriel turned swiftly and met Erik's eyes. "What sort of problem?"

Erik's fists clenched. "I'm losing her," he whispered.

Gabriel looked confused. "Christine? It looks like you've still got good chances to m—"

The man's hand shot out and caught the angel in the chest. He gripped the front of Gabriel's robe and brought the angel within inches of his face. "Is that all you think about?" Erik hissed. "Your ridiculous damned job? Well, just so you know, there is a rest of the world out there. I'm losing Katya. Do you remember her? My wife? Because I don't. And I want to know what in hell is going on."

Quick backstory from angelinhell: Katya is Khatereh of Mazanderan. Those of us hard-core fans out there will know, but for everyone else, Mazanderan is a place in Persia. To make a long story short: Katya was married to Erik but her sister-in-law (who may be known to some of us as my version of the little sultana) went insane and killed her. BTW, I made all of this up.

Gabriel scratched his head—a remarkable feat, as Erik still had hold of the front of his robe. "Interesting," he said. "It seems the temporal loop is interfering with your recall...but unfortunately, I don't think there's anything _I_ can do about it."

"_What?_" Erik's voice was all ice and steel; even the angel had to shiver.

"All I can do is tell you this: you'll continue to lose memories until you get it right...so you better move fast.

Erik looked hard into the angel's eyes, sighed, and let go of him. "Any suggestions?"

Gabriel shrugged. "I don't know. Be honest."

Erik nodded and closed his eyes. "I'm ready."

FLASH.

I'm really sorry it's so short—I'm just getting back into the groove of the story. The next chapter will be longer, I promise. Okay?


End file.
